Lasciate Ogni Speranza, Voi Ch'entrate
by didyousaychocolate
Summary: Dean has gone to hell for Sam, and Sam returns the favor.  AU after Season 3


A/N: First a thank you to my wonderful friend Collette for editing this and being my on-call beta!

Now, originally, season four was going to open with Sam finding a way to go to hell to save his brother, and my BFBF had an idea for how that might go down, and what Dean might say upon seeing Sam, so I wrote it for her (and thank her for the beautiful prompt)! This is for you, Lgeeg.

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><p>He's finally made it; a year's worth of work, of pure devotion to his goal. Research and acquisition and spells and ancient magic, barely having enough time to sleep to eat or to live; getting here has been his life, every moment of every day, and now here he finally is. Hell.<p>

Hell is a vast, constantly expanding space, so the spell he uses- the only one he has found that seems to have a chance of being real, needs an anchor point to latch onto, something down there, whether it be a landmark, exact coordinates— a person. Some of his brother's blood (and he is infinitely glad that their father had gotten them into the habit of keeping viles of their own around- you never know when it can be handy for a spell, he had said, and only now does Sam truly appreciate that advice) has been enough to ensure he'll end up where he needs.

He stares around at the perpetual emptiness, uncertain. He is in a blackened desert with a dark green sky and it's difficult to see even a few feet ahead. He can't hear anything but a far off, faint mechanical click, which isn't what he'd expected at all. Hell isn't filled with fire and screams, it's just darkness and silence, surrounding him, pushing in on him, and he breaths in deep, steeling himself. Dean is supposed to be close by.

"Dean?" he says aloud, softly, uncertainly. As far as he can see, he is alone and he doesn't move, doesn't want to risk walking in the wrong direction and away from his brother. "Dean?" he calls again.

There is no response. He waits a few moments.

"Dean!" he shouts, much louder, as his fear and uncertainty are rapidly being replaced with worry. The spell had been explicit that he would end up within a few feet of the person or thing he had called it on. The seconds continue to tick by, and Sam is antsy, feels like he should be running somewhere, searching, but he can't see anything in any direction. He continues to wait, is about to call again when his heart stops.

"Sam?" he hears, softly, but not because the voice is far away- it's whispered, it sounds pained, and Sam is flooded with worry, relief, desperation, to see his brother and get him out. All he has to do is find him, grab him, and say the incantation. Sam turns around quickly, in the direction of Dean's voice, starting to move toward where his brother, where home and life and _everything _he had been missing this past year is.

His footsteps make no sound as he walks forward, and even if they did he wouldn't hear them as he focuses on the things beginning to take shape in the darkness, the chains and hooks suspended in thin air, and he shudders.

"Dean," he says again, "where are you?" He hears a cough a few yards ahead, one that sounds painful and dry, and then his brother's voice again- just hearing it soothes him as much as its condition worries him.

"I-" another cough "I'm here, Sammy," is the weak response, but it's enough, and Sam shifts direction, going a little more towards the left, and then-

Sam has no words for the sight of his brother, a dirty, bloody heap of carved and twisted limbs, limp on his back on the ground. Sam rushes towards him, almost afraid to touch him, to hurt him more, and something inside of himself breaks. He knew he wouldn't like what he found, but- but this.

He sees Dean take in a shuddering breath, and he kneels beside his brother. "Dean," he says, his voice choked, because what can he even _say. _He feels like it's his fault, for getting hurt, for Dean making the deal, for leaving his brother alone and not being able to get here fast enough-

"Sammy," and Dean is grinning. He looks like he's been hit by a bus and then torn apart by the hounds of hell, and he's still grinning up at Sam as if he just gave him the sun. "Knew you were-" he cuts off, coughing, and the blood Sam sees on his brother's lips brings tears he's been trying to hold back to the edges of his eyes. "Knew you were coming— as soon as those bastards disappeared." He reaches up one shaking hand, and Sam quickly moves to stop him, grabbing it within his own. He doesn't trust himself to speak. "But really, Sammy?" Dean's voice is hoarse and cracking and getting weaker with every word but Sam won't stop him from speaking, can't stop him from speaking, not yet, not even to do the incantation. He hasn't heard his brother's voice in too long- "one doesn't-" he coughs again "one doesn't simply _walk _into Mordor."

And Sam finally allows himself to cry; he has his brother again.


End file.
